


The Planet Earth and the Electronic Eye

by orphan_account



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, happy endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 10:11:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5963521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not that Hera hasn't seen earth before, but there's something recordings and pictures can't quite capture. Eiffel helps her take a look for herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Planet Earth and the Electronic Eye

**Author's Note:**

> Done for a meme prompt on tumblr. I believe the prompt in question was "the things you said when it was over." I chose to take it in a less tragic direction. 
> 
> Though "C'mon, Hera" is becoming a theme. Everyone, support this AI! She's the best.

The laboratory was as cold and white as any other, but there were windows. They did what windows were supposed to do - sometimes, you had to stick with the basics. They revealed the outside world, with blue sky and buildings and a young couple walking their dog. It was almost too perfect.  


Eiffel kind of wished a bird would poop or something. Give the scene a more organic feeling. But, oh well, here they were. Hilbert had even thoughtfully stepped outside. “Give you two some alone time, yes?”

Now, Douglas Eiffel stood by himself in front of a computer, in a room where every surface gleamed with the light of Earth’s very own sun, like a gold star sticker in the sky that said, “Good job! You destroyed a godawful corporate conspiracy and made it home!”

He made a face, and saw it reflected back at himself on the screen. He stuck his tongue out at himself, too. Okay, come on. There wasn’t a reason for him to hesitate. If anything, he owed it to her, didn’t he, to make sure that everything was online as soon as possible? Otherwise, they hadn’t really fulfilled their promise to her, to make sure they all got back to Earth.

Glancing up at the pinhole representing an attached webcam, he pulled his tongue back in, and then, he pushed the button.

Immediately, things began to heat up. They’d done the best they could, but with Goddard Futuristics now a thing of the past, the right sort of tech was harder to come by. The fans spun and spun, and Eiffel’s hand hovered beside the vent. Hot. Really hot. Too hot?

He knew it would take her a minute to settle in, to adjust to the new limits of sensory perception and fill the space available to her. It always did. Literally every time. This was normal. Still, he whispered, “C’mon, Hera…”

The screen didn’t display anything special. A grid of shortcuts and icons, though Eiffel didn’t recognize many of the programs except a web browser and something for video chatting. Hera would be running in the background. There had to be a way to see that. He hesitated, and then began to key in: _control… alt…_

“Ugh!”

Eiffel gave the webcam a huge, goofy grin. “Hey there, Sleeping Beauty!”

“What? Officer Eiffel. I don’t even have physical features, and I don’t-”

“I know, I know. You don’t need to sleep. And _you_ know I was messing with you. Come on.”

“Fine. But if I indulge you every time you mess around, nothing gets done around-”

“…Here? Yeah, about that.”

“Okay, Officer Eiffel. I give. Uncle, or whatever the term is. I’m not in the mood, frankly, I’m…”

Hera let that go. She was panicking internally, and the only reason she hadn’t let this manifest externally yet was because Eiffel seemed perfectly okay with whatever was going on. She could trust that, monitor him and modify her responses accordingly. But that didn’t change how cramped she felt, and everything was loading up, but some programs didn’t seem to have anything to load into. Life support, gone. Engines, gone. The only explanation for that was success. She’d done everything she could prior to deactivation, but frankly, they’d only had a 41-percent chance of _success_.

And what she’d neglected to mention, for the well-being of her crew: she, personally, had closer to a 9-percent chance of surviving their little operation, for all that they'd done a lot more than rip her free this time. And yet, success was the only reasonable way to explain how obsolete her home was.

“…We made it to Earth? Really?”

“Thought you’d figure it out. Yup. Goodbye, U.S.S. Hephaestus; hello, toothpaste, coffee, and sunshine. Or, well…” He paused, and shrugged. “I dunno. I mean, you’re not exactly portable, although give it like, a month, and you’ll probably fit in a cell phone…”

“If you put me in your back pocket, I will not forgive you.”

“I didn’t think so. But for now, um, I’ve got this.” He picked up a small, rounded device from the back of the keyboard, and held it up to her webcam. “D’you think you can work it out?”

Hera zoomed in on it. “It’s a little… primitive… but it should function with this system. What are you going to use it for, though? As we’ve established, I’ve got audio output and input, as well as effective, if limited, visuals.”

“Just… It’s a surprise, okay?”

Hera considered that, and when she replied, it was with a trace of amusement. “…Alright, Office Eiffel. Surprise me.”

He plugged the cord into the appropriate port, then held the USB camera right up to his face. He stuck his tongue out again, and put his free hand by his ear, wiggling his fingers.

“Yes, I see you,” Hera replied. “And if that is your surprise, I’m going to find a way to hack your coffee machine here and ruin your breakfast for a week. Are we clear?”

“Crystal, my dear. And anyway, no, that’s not the surprise. I just wanted to make sure everything was operational. All-systems-go. Hunky-dory!” He said innocently. He lowered the camera, and stepped over to the nearest window. There was just enough give for him to hold it up nearby.

“Oh,” said Hera.

It would have been a false statement, to say she’d never seen the outside world. She’d seen Earth plenty of times, in pictures, in simulations. But never a live feed before, and certainly not a private one. She looked out through the lens, and saw so much color, so much more than a void with a faint wash of red on the spectrum visible to humans. These colors already had names. The ones that didn’t would be there, too, but her current equipment couldn’t detect them properly.

At the moment, she didn’t care. Beauty was, objectively, beauty, and this was it. This was Earth. She reduced the volume of her voice deliberately, to convey suitable awe. She whispered, “Officer Eiffel…”

“Yeah, Hera?”

“Thank you. It’s a very nice surprise.”

“Cool. So, can you still hack the coffee machine and maybe… I dunno, make it better, somehow?”

She laughed. “I’ll see. It depends on the model. And I wouldn’t really call that hacking, either.”

“Right, well, it’s not a huge deal… Oh, and by the way, you reeeally shouldn’t be calling me officer anything anymore. I’m not. Never felt like it, anyway. Just Doug is fine.”

“It’s over, isn’t it?”

“Yup. No more missions. Ever.”

“I’d like that,” she said. She had her doubts about if it would be true, at least for herself. Humans so rarely let such valuable technology  go to waste. And Eiffel didn’t seem like he could stay out of trouble that easily.

“A break sounds nice. To put it mildly,” she said, anyway.

He set the camera down, and pushed open the window, so he could lean on the windowsill and hold her outside. The wind played over her microphone, and she heard him take a deep breath.

“Yeah, well… You deserve it more than anyone else I know, Hera. Enjoy it.”


End file.
